Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin)

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Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin) Page 82

by Matthew D. Ryan

Epilogue

  Regecon opened his eyes. He squinted in the brightness of daylight, then let out a long and weary sigh. Slowly, he tried to lift his head.

  Every muscle ached and every joint stung. He remembered the struggle with the vampire and felt fortunate to be alive. Those final incantations had taken every ounce of reserve he could muster. It would probably be days before he returned to his feet again.

  After several minutes of struggling, the guild master finally managed to sit up in his bed. For the first time, he looked around to take in his unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a small bedroom furnished only with a bed, two chairs, and a nightstand. Two windows marked the opposite wall, each opened to allow the early morning sun to enter and bathe the room with its light. Outside, the sounds of birds were slowly being drowned out by the noise of the awakening city.

  A door on his left opened, and he turned to look.

  A grey-robed man with the bearing and mark of a priest of Drellenor was motioning to several people outside the room. Within moments, Ambrisia, Coragan, and Galladrin filed inside. Regecon smiled.

  “You are looking much better, Guild Master,” Ambrisia said.

  “Yeah, yesterday at this time I really didn’t think you were going to make it,” Coragan added.

  Regecon raised both eyebrows. “Yesterday? How long have I been out?”

  The priest stepped forward. “Roughly a day and a half, Guild Master.”

  “Yes, you’ve been out since the fire and that occurred the night before last.” Ambrisia moved forward as she spoke, and gently brushed a stray lock of the fire wizard’s hair from across his face.

  “Fire?”

  “Yes, Guild Master, there has been another fire at the guild,” Ambrisia continued.

  “Perhaps you should let him rest,” Galladrin suggested.

  “Nonsense,” Regecon said, adjusting his position on the bed. He ignored the sudden jab of pain that shot across his chest. “Tell me of this fire. I remember the guard reporting the one started by the townspeople. Is that the fire to which you refer? How far did it progress?”

  “Well, when the townspeople rushed the gate they overwhelmed the guards and the few wizards who had arrived to aid them. They then began setting torch to everything in sight.” Ambrisia paused, then continued. “Methoin and the others of your discipline tried, but the fire quickly got beyond their control. Even with the aid of the water mages, nearly half of the guild house was destroyed.”

  Regecon’s face grew somber, and his voice flat. “Destroyed?” He furrowed his brow as he considered the thought, then shook his head. “What of the townspeople? How were they dealt with?”

  “Their leader, Duradan, died when the kitchen roof collapsed on him. After that, the majority of the people lost their will and the riot began breaking up. The town guard arrested a dozen or so other ring leaders, but that does little to compensate our loss.”

  Regecon adjusted his position in bed again, and this time he winced from the sharp jab of pain. He forestalled any comments with a question. “Were there many other injuries?”

  Ambrisia paused to study the guild master in concern, then finally replied. “Not as many as there could have been, but enough. Three other men were killed in the blaze and two of our guards were beaten to death. The rest were minor injuries. For the most part, the people seemed more bent on destroying what we had rather than us ourselves.”

  Regecon nodded. There was one more question nagging him; the important one that he was avoiding. “What of the vampire?”

  The priest in the room appeared startled and made a quick sign to Drellenor, but the others brightened.

  “It has been destroyed,” Coragan said. “Korina, Galladrin, myself, and several of the other mages saw it released within the waters of the river. Borak and Mathagarr—they are recovering in a room down the hall, if you are interested—anyway, the two of them are all upset that they missed Lucian’s demise, but if you ask me, in a way, it was kind of disappointing. The mist simply spilled out of the container and faded in the water. After all we went through, I expected something, oh, I don’t know, something a little more dramatic from the prince of darkness.”

  “As long as he was destroyed,” Regecon said. “That is what’s important. That compensates even the loss of the guild. By the way, have you begun any salvage operations yet, Ambrisia?”

  “Yes, Korina and the others have begun work recovering whatever can be found amidst the wreckage. It is tedious, but it has kept them busy. Is there anything else you intend?”

  Regecon suddenly yawned. This brief conversation was wearing on him. Again he wondered how long it would be before he would be back on his feet. “No. We shall discuss this when I am more recovered. We’ll have to talk to the Baron’s Council concerning reconstruction and possible relocation. We’ll also have to look into reimbursement for the damages, but all that can wait. It seems I am still quite tired.” The guild master yawned a second time to emphasize his point. The others nodded in understanding, then took their leave. Ambrisia was last, giving the guild master a warm, parting smile before finally closing the door.

  Alone, Regecon suddenly realized he had forgotten to ask where he was. Sighing, he sank back beneath the covers. It didn’t really matter, as long as the vampire was dead.

  Ambrisia closed the door to Regecon’s room and sighed. It was a relief to see the man awake and talking again. Yesterday, she had been at her wits end with worry that he might not make it. No matter how much one saw it, one could never get used to death; especially if the person dying was someone close to you.

  The Mistress of the Earth turned to follow the others down the corridor and turned her thoughts to the latest mystery to present itself. The diviners had given their report to her yesterday regarding Marissa and her disappearance. Despite what she had told Regecon and Jacindra when they had first discussed the issue, she was expecting to find out the young woman had decided to flee, but what the diviners found was much more startling.

  Absolutely nothing.

  Not a trace, not a trail, not a whiff of anything. Given that there had been at least two vampires in the guild at differing times, one might reasonably expect some difficulties with all the ripples of black time generated; but the vampires were gone now. The last ripples of black time were fading and still there was no sign of Marissa. According to the diviners, the effective range of their magics was five hundred miles; and within that radius Marissa did not exist. It was like she had been wiped from reality: taken up and snatched from this very plane of being.

  Ambrisia shook her head as she pondered the riddle. She reached up and began twirling one of her long tresses about her finger. She would wait a day, then have the diviners give it another try. If worse came to worst, she would have them scry for her during a time when she was known to be present at the guild, then follow her activities until the time she disappeared. Perhaps that might give her some clues.

  In the meantime, she had other duties to attend to.

 

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